


Zombie Apocolypse AU

by InsaneHam



Series: Philip and Angie Short Stories [6]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Betrayal, Character Death, Gen, Gun Violence, Sacrifice, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 13:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneHam/pseuds/InsaneHam
Summary: Philip, Angie and Andy Hamilton in a Zombie apocolpyse.





	Zombie Apocolypse AU

**Author's Note:**

> You have been warned.

Angie’s lungs burned, breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. Her legs felt as though they would fall off, yet they kept moving, back and forth, seemingly of their own volition. Branches whipped her exposed face and arms, scratches multiplying every moment. Tears stung her eyes.

“Run, Angie. Run.”

Philip had been smiling, dimples masking his pain as the virus slowly spread through his body. Skin fading to a lifeless white before being stained a ghastly green. His blissful grin had turned into a snarl, sparkling eyes rolling back in their sockets. The fight between the corrupting Zombie virus and his consciousness played across his face, yellow nails dragging on his arms. A sound was torn from his throat, halfway between a gasp and a scream. Angie had stayed rotted to the spot, horrified as her brother turned into a malicious, savage monster. It turned to her, white eyes glowing with hate. It lunged, intent on eating her flesh.

“I think we should stop here.”

With those words, Angie collapsed to the ground, leaves crunching underneath her hands. Her cheeks were wet, and she reached up to wipe them away. Flashes passed through her mind. Philip, reading her his poems at bedtime. Philip, holding her hand as she struggled through a cold. Philip, presenting her with a piano book for her birthday. Philip, standing up to bullies for her. Philip, comforting her after a heartbreak. Loving, laughing Philip.

And now his final act of sacrifice. Philip, throwing himself in front of a murderous, raging Zombie for her. Bile rose in her throat, and half digested food splattered over the forest floor. She continued until there was nothing left, and then just stayed there, heaving.

“Sis?”

Andy appeared in the peripheral of her vision. Worse than ever, heavy eyebags drooping over his cheekbones, face gaunt, devoid of any excess fat. Dead eyes that carried traces of sadness and concern, hope a rare commodity in the wake of this apocalypse. It had been Andy who had saved her, dragging her away from the ferocious Philip. Not Philip. A Zombie. Her older brother wasn’t anything like that. Philip was the kindest soul to ever exist, incapable of hurting anyone, yet this beast was rid of all human compassion, driven solely by the instinct to kill. Her stomach turned again.

Andy was the only one left to her now. Everyone else, mama, papa, the little ones, Will, Beth, and even Theodosia had been slaughtered in this never ending apocalypse. She had watched her mother bleed to death in front of her, watched her nameless baby brother starve, watch as everyone she had ever known and loved perish. And now Philip too.

She could still remember being transfixed with fear as the Zombie advanced on her, teeth gnashing. She had stood there, accepting her inevitable death, waiting for the moment when she could finally let go, and see her family again. Then, just as the kaws began to close around her neck, Philip had leaped out of nowhere, pushing her out of the way, mouth tearing through his shoulder blade instead. A smile had popped up on his face.

“Run, Angie. Run.”

Why hadn’t he let the zombie turn her? She had wanted it to be over, for the pain and suffering to end. Instead she was still living and breathing, while Philip was out hunting for blood. Her blood. The thought threatened to make her be sick again.

“Angie, please, answer me,” Andy begged, voice breaking. Desperate. Just like her.

“I have to go back.”

Andy reeled back, as if hit by a sledgehammer. To be fair, she practically had.

“What?” he choked out. Angie stumbled to her feet, world spinning. Leaned against a tree.

“To Dewer’s Hollow. To Philip.”

Andy steadied her, but his countenance was grim. He spoke the next words slowly, as if speaking to a child.

“Philip’s gone, sis.”

No. He couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t. If he was, it’d be all her fault. Angie should’ve been the one who had been turned, not Philip. But, as she looked into Andy’s eyes, she knew that any mention of that would mean being forcefully dragged far, far away.

“All the more reason I need to go back.”

Angie hated this, hated speaking about Philip as if he wasn’t there. To distract herself, she began retracing their haphazard escape through the forest. From Philip. It wasn’t difficult. They had been in such a panic, they hadn't bothered to move the branches out of the way, instead crashing through like two madmen. Andy followed her, disbelief clear in his voice.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” Angie ducked below a particularly low hanging branch, one Andy had to stoop to clear. “You're not going to stop me.”

“What are you even hoping to accomplish?” he demanded. The question gave her pause. What did she want?

“I need to put Philip out of his misery.”

Andy’s face scrunched up, in pity or anger, she couldn't tell.

“Philip’s already a zombie, Angie! He’s already dead!”

“You can’t say for certain,” Angie argued softly. “ He could still be in there, in that terrible body, trapped. I won’t let him suffer for any longer than he has to.”

“Philip did not sacrifice his life so you could throw it away!” Andy caught her arm, forcing her to stop. His grip was tight, unwilling to let her go. “And what about me, Angie? Are you going to leave me too?”

Angie glanced backwards, pang of guilt shooting through her. Andy’s eyes were watering, loneliness already creeping in. She should’ve known. To survive in these helping circumstances was impossible. Without a single person to talk to, it was maddening. How could she even think to leave him?

“Andy.” Angie grabbed his hand with hers, squeezing it reassuringly. “I won’t leave you. I never intended that. I just need to save Philip.”

“Save?” Andy repeated blearily. Angie nodded vigorously.

“Yes. Imagine yourself as a Zombie, with no choice but to hunt down your brethren and eat their flesh. With no control over your own limbs. Wouldn't you want to be saved?”

Andy scanned her for any signs of a lie. Tongue flicked out to wet dry lips. She met his gaze with her own, confident one. They stay there for an indefinite amount of time, each trying to outlast the other, before Andy finally broke the stalemate.

“If it were to happen to me, would you do it?”

Angie tilted her head, slightly confused.

“Do what?”

Andy pointed to his head, hand mimicking a gun.

“Kill me.”

Angie let out a short bark of laughter, devoid of any humor. The sound sent shivers up his spine.

“Of course I will, Andy, what kind of a question is that?”

He swallowed and nodded.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay. Just Philip, and then we’re back on the road again.”

“We better get moving.” Angie squinted up at the setting sun, light filtering through the trees. “We’re losing daylight fast.”

They backtracked all the way back to Dewer's Hollow. Throughout the journey, neither of then said a word, a silent barrier separating them. When they arrived, they scanned the trees for any sign of Philip.

“I don't see him, Angie, let's just-”

“There,” Angie hissed, pointing to a tuft of curly auburn hair sticking out from underneath a bush. The Zombie poked its head out, as if it had heard them. Faint growling emanated from its throat. A frightening, dastardly creature, it's very existence was a pale mockery of Philip. It sported the same loose clothes, and even the bushy hair was the same. Yet the freckles had faded with his skin tone, now a sickly green. Bright blue eyes were rolled back in their sockets, allowing the eerie sheen of white tissue, interlaced with fine blood vessels, look like two pinpricks in a the dark. Finally, his normal, teasing smile hate been replaced with a hateful snarl.

“Philip,” Angie whispered, reaching a hand towards him. It's head swivelled in their direction.

“Angie, shut up,” Andy muttered, pulling a handgun out of its holster. It is been his father's most prized possession, the only thing they had salvaged from his wrecked body. It seemed fitting that Philip would meet his demise through it.

Andy pulled out their three last, precious bullets and grimaced. He'd have to make it count. Loaded and cocked it, aiming it squarely at Philip's chest. Vision narrowing, focusing on the monstrosity in front of him. Just before he pulled the trigger, a hand pushed his gun to the side.

“What?” Andy hissed, annoyance sweeping through him. He just wanted it done and over with, end of story. Angie pointed to the weapon in his hands, and then herself. His eyes widened with understanding.

“You want to shoot him?”

“Yes. Please,” Angie pleaded, fingers wrapping around the barrel. “Philip would want it to be like this.”

Andy's jaw clenched in indecision. Every reasonable part of his brain was screaming not to give Angie the gun but… he knew how much Philip had meant to her. How much she loved him, and how much pain she was in right now. How could he bear to refuse her? As if reading his mind, Angie said,

“I won't be able to let go unless I do it.”

Andy loosened his grip, allowing Angie to snatch it right out of his hands.

“Remember your words,” he muttered, sitting down. She nodded, adjusting her hold.

“I will.”

Angie stood, drawing it's attention. Snarling, it made for them, unaffected by the branches that impeded its path.

“Shoot it. Shoot it now,” Andy demanded, tugging on her pant leg. Angie ignored him, one eyelid shut.

Andy scuttled backwards as it came, taking three short strides before lunging at them. As it came closer, Andy squeezed his eyes shut. Then a gunshot blasted through the silence. Andy opened his eyes a fraction to see Philip lying on the ground. Shot through the eye.

“What the hell, Angie?” Andy painted, heart beating out of his chest.

“Saved bullets,” Angie responded dispassionately, crouching to inspect the body. The skin had regained some of its human colour. Used her fingers to close Philip's eyes. The hateful expression hate disappeared. Now Philip was at peace. Now she could move on.

Angie straightened up and pointed the barrel at Andy.

“What are you doing?” Andy gasped.

“Setting you free.”

Angie squeezed the trigger, and Andy fell to the ground, dead. She approached him. Shock and betrayal were etched onto his face.

“I'm sorry Andy. I did this for your sake. But you wouldn't understand even if I explained it.”

Angie closed Andy's dead eyes, grimacing when she saw it had done nothing to ease his shocked expression. No matter. She wouldn't be around much longer to see it.

Angie looked up at the heavens, where no doubt her entire family were looking down on her. They would understand.

“Philip, Andy, mama, papa, I'm coming.”

She turned back to Philip. He was just lying there, peacefully sleeping. If she curled up in his arms, she could only imagine they were children again. 

“Philip, I'm scared. They keep coming back when I close my eyes.”

Philip's smile could light up the whole universe.

“Don't worry Angie!” he said. “I'll protect you.”

“You'll protect me.”

Angie pressed the cold metal barrel to her skin. Three bullets. Final target. She pulled the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> This is why I shouldn't write while I'm sick. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
